Malachite
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: His blood is that of a wolf, but his heart is that of a man. Five glimpses into the life of Remus Lupin.
1. -I- Rebirth

**Malachite**

 _ **Rebirth**_

.

The glass tinkles as it breaks, falling like so many diamonds across the carpet.

He bites his lower lip and pulls the blanket up past his nose, blinking at the glowing green eyes that prowl towards him.

He wants to scream for Daddy, but he can't, because it's as though his throat is slick with ice.

Sharp fangs pierce his shoulder, and the ice shatters, his scream finally flying free from his throat. The coppery stench of blood invades his nostrils, flavoured with the rank odour of the monster's fur, and he feels bile rise in his throat.

His bed squishes beneath him, his blood soaking into it like a sponge.

The door bursts open, and he's dimly aware of his parents screaming, and the monster leaping out the broken window. His shoulder burns, and he feels a fire spreading through his veins, from the bite to his fingers and his toes, and his entire body is aflame.

He screams, the darkness creeping at his vision as his daddy grabs him, and he feels his mummy holding something against his shoulder.

The last thing he sees as his world goes black is a pair of green eyes in the night.

* * *

 **Word Count: 200**


	2. -II- Transition

**Malachite**

 _ **Transition**_

.

He screams, dropping to his knees upon the dusty floor.

Doubling over, he feels it, his bones beginning to buckle in upon themselves, realigning, shifting, snapping, and then healing. He writhes in agony, clutching at his face as his jaw forces itself outward, growing into a snout.

His nails grow into claws, and he's shredding his own skin as he tries to dig out the pain, his animal mind sensing danger even as the human side of him tries to remain calm.

Like the meanest of spirits, he wails, and screams, loud enough to convince all of Britain that this shack is haunted by the foulest of wraiths. It's pain beyond pain, something that normal people only experience in their deepest nightmares, and he hates it.

Hair turns to fur, and his screams turn to howls, and suddenly he's aware of a strange scent. It's familiar, like his two-legged prey, but also . . . tinged with the taste of friend.

It's a dog, black and almost as large as he is, and he approaches it, sniffing curiously. Bigger than the dog is the stag, and in its antlers perch a rat.

He howls.

They are to be his pack.

* * *

 **Word Count: 200**


	3. -III- Mate

**Malachite**

 _ **Mate**_

.

It's late, and the moon is reaching its apex. He lies awake in bed, tossing and turning, not able to drift to sleep. Sweat runs slick across his body, and he feels the wolf raging within, eager to be set free once more.

The moon is almost full, and it beckons to the beast within.

Flecks of glowing green have begun to show across his soft brown eyes, he knows, and he wonders how gruesome this transition will be. The wolf has been growing more vicious as of late, becoming wilder since the pack is gone.

Eyes grow heavy with sleep, but something keeps him from succumbing. The self-loathing clings to him like a second skin, and the wolf grows ever more restless within.

It's a coiling sense of dread that unfurls within him like the blooming flames of a dark phoenix, and he feels a shiver run down his spine.

Then, just as he feels the doubts begin to overcome him, he feels a soft hand across his scarred chest, and he turns to see candyfloss hair and soft, green eyes.

"Sleep, Remus," she whispers, pressing her lips to his cheeks, and for some strange, inconceivable reason, he does.

* * *

 **Word Count: 200**


	4. -IV- Child

**Malachite**

 _ **Child**_

.

A tear escapes his eye as he holds the squirming bundle, and he lets out a faint whimper as the infant gurgles in his arms.

He wonders how a monster like him could deserve such a precious gift.

He swallows, letting the tiny fingers curl around his thumb, and he smiles as the turquoise hair shifts, darkening till it's the exact same shade of brown as his. It's amazing, he thinks, how bright his son is at such an early age.

Teddy's hair is often brown in his arms, but it's a rainbow at any other given time of day.

He lets himself feel smug about that little fact, because it's something he treasures. The fact that his son tries to look like him and him alone is worth more than all the Galleons in Gringotts.

Tiny eyes flutter open, and he starts at the sight. They're brown and warm, but flecked with glowing bits of green, and it's the first time he's seen the shadow of the wolf reflected in his child's eyes.

Blinking at the boy, he smiles, for his son may have the blood of the beast in his veins, but he's beautifully human all the same.

* * *

 **Word Count: 200**


	5. -V- Death

_**Malachite**_

 _ **Death**_

.

He spits blood, hissing in pain as he claws his way to his feet. Around him, the battle rages, and ignoring the burning pain in his gut, he raises his wand.

His heart falls at the sight of the splintered wood between his fingers, and he sighs, sensing rather than seeing his attacker approach. Knowing what comes next, he releases the broken wand.

He catches her eye for the briefest of moments as she hurtles down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Whispering three soft words to the wind, he hears her scream, but he knows it's already far too late.

Turning away from her, his wife, his eyes harden with resolve. There is no escape, and hope has long since fled, so he simply swallows, resigning himself to his fate. There's a biting sorrow in his bones, a pain deeper than anything the wolf can inflict, because he knows now he'll never know his son.

Dolohov bellows the fatal words, and he sees the curse spring from the tip of the Death Eater's wand.

It's strange.

The flash of jade, that crackling, shrieking streak of death, is identical in colour to those green eyes in the night.

* * *

 _ **Word Count: 200**_


End file.
